


Watched Over

by K_Hanna_Korossy



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Hanna_Korossy/pseuds/K_Hanna_Korossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Rodney watches over an injured Zelenka, John watches over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watched Over

First published in  _Of Dreams & Schemes 21 _(2006)

 

It had been one of those rare milk-run missions: no hostile natives—no natives at all, actually—no natural disasters, no wildlife determined to eat or poison them. Not exactly a fruitful trip, but better no ZPM or new allies than an injured man. Major John Sheppard felt almost relaxed as he led his team back through the Stargate to Atlantis.

That probably should have been his first warning.

The sight of Elizabeth Weir, their expedition leader, waiting for them by the gate, hands clasped in front of her in nervous tension, was a definite second. John pulled up short in front of her, hearing the others arriving behind him.

“…to become diamonds, Lieutenant. Besides, maybe you’ve noticed, it’s not like there’s much of a demand for precious jewels here.”

Rodney McKay had talked right through the trip home, his tone one that would have been patronizing to a preschooler, but Ford hadn’t seemed to care much planetside and had probably tuned him out completely by now. Teyla silently brought up the rear, listening and watchful, but John could sense her pick up on the tension in the control room, too, and straighten warily behind him. So it wasn’t just him. Not that he’d really had any doubt.

“So…um…” McKay finally noticed something was off, falling into silence. Briefly, anyway. “What’s wrong?” Always the one to say what everyone was thinking, John thought wryly.

“Dr. McKay,” Elizabeth stepped forward, and John frowned at the expression on her face. Bad news. He was an expert at seeing it coming. “Could I speak to you in private, please?” Her glance took the rest of them in briefly, lingering a fraction of a second on John, then she turned and moved away.

McKay hesitated, throwing John a puzzled glance. He shrugged back—it wasn’t like he hadn’t just gotten here, too. But the query answered a question of his own, and when Rodney moved to follow Weir, John fell in behind him. Whatever this was, he wanted to hear it, too. Good of the team and all that, right?

The three of them climbed the steps, passing the control room crew, one or two of whom gave them solemn looks as they passed. John’s worry grew to an itch, but Rodney was positively humming with tension. A glance back down at the rest of his team showed Teyla watching them with concern, Ford already heading away toward the locker rooms. John almost snorted in amusement at his lieutenant’s ability to shrug off trouble, until he saw Aiden stop someone and ask a quiet question. So, they were all worried. That didn’t surprise him much, either.

Elizabeth reached her office and went inside, McKay following. She gave John a glance as he slipped in last and stayed by the door, keeping wary watch, but she didn’t seem to mind his presence. And he had no idea what that meant.

McKay, for all his complaining on the planet about being tired, perched on the edge of the nearest chair like a rabbit ready to flee. “Okay, let me guess—Kavanaugh set fire to my lab. I knew I shouldn’t have let him work in it, but he keeps whining I have the best—”

“Rodney,” Elizabeth cut him off gently, “it’s Dr. Zelenka.”

John straightened.

“Radek set fire to my lab?” It was a weak joke, delivered in an even weaker voice. John’s gaze moved from Weir to McKay, seeing the man swallow hard, then ticked back to Elizabeth, willing her to spit it out and end the suspense.

“There was…an accident while you were gone. We think flooding weakened a section of the wall in the room Dr. Zelenka was exploring, and it gave way while he was there. He’s alive,” her voice rose to march over Rodney’s questions as he opened his mouth, but all that emerged was a single dismayed sound. “But he was badly injured,” she continued more softly. “Carson has him in surgery right now.”

Silence. John winced. He liked the little Czech scientist, one of the few non-coms he’d gotten to know. He’d miss the guy, and Atlantis would be harder up without him.

But he was Rodney’s best friend.

McKay just sat there, as if he hadn’t heard what Elizabeth had said, and a silent McKay was never good. Then John leaned forward fractionally and saw one of Rodney’s hands frantically bunching and releasing a handful of his jacket.

Okay, time to look after his team.

“We done here?” he asked abruptly, stepping forward next to McKay’s chair. One hand under the scientist’s arm was enough to get him on his feet. Rodney didn’t protest, didn’t do much of anything but give him a dumb glance.

Elizabeth nodded. “I assume you’ll be down in the infirmary?” She stood with them, her eyes on McKay but her question directed at John.

“Yep.” He turned them both away, toward the door.

“We can do the debriefing later.”

“Yep.” He wasn’t trying to be cavalier and belatedly threw her an apologetic glance to say as much. A short shake of the head; she understood. First things first.

They walked out of the room, through the silent control room, turning down a hallway toward the infirmary. That was when McKay finally came to life, pulling out of John’s grip. “I’m not a puppy on a leash, Major.”

John lifted one hand in apology. “Okay, you just looked like you were going to _faint_ for a minute there.” One corner of his mouth twitched with teasing. Rodney didn’t care for that word, and John knew it.

It was lost on Rodney now, however. “I’m fine,” he said curtly.

“Terrific. I’ll just keep you company then.”

McKay hesitated, hostility melting into wariness. “Why?”

John threw up his hands. “Because I miss your cheerful smile—geez, McKay, did it ever occur to you _I_ might be worried about the guy, too?”

“Oh.” Clearly, no, it hadn’t. He at least had the delicacy to look abashed, not meeting John’s eyes. “Well. Okay, then. Just don’t…clutch.” McKay set off again toward the infirmary.

“Yes, Dad,” John muttered to himself, and followed.

There was no formal waiting room there; thankfully, they hadn’t had enough casualties to warrant the space. The clean room Beckett performed his few surgeries in was off the main infirmary, though, so John gave McKay a shove toward the nearest diagnostic bed and then hoisted himself up beside him, giving the scientist’s leg a pat as he did.

A few long minutes passed. John shrugged out of his vest and laid it and his weapon down on the bed beside him, then nudged McKay to do the same. The scientist absently pulled his vest off and dropped it onto the bed on his side.

John finally heaved in a breath. “Beckett’s a good doctor.”

“I know.”

“And Zelenka, he’s a tough little guy.”

A silent nod.

John rubbed the back of his neck. In the past, he’d envied a little bit the relationship the two scientists had—command was indeed lonely and had left John few peers to pal around with—but not so much right now. “I’m sure he’s gonna be fine.”

“And what do you base your diagnosis on, Doctor?” McKay surprised him with an acid glare. “Because last I heard, you didn’t inherit the ability to see the future along with that over-achiever gene of yours.”

John’s breath came out like a long sigh. “You’re right. Good men die sometimes.”

McKay didn’t seem any happier with that statement, although he had no answer. He went back to staring at the floor.

“That doesn’t mean Zelenka’s going to,” John added kindly.

And found himself talking to a hand. “Could you just…not talk for a little while right now?”

John counted to five. “You want me to leave?”

A pause. Rodney seemed to be fascinated by the wall now. “I didn’t say that.”

Considering how much Rodney usually talked, those four words said an awful lot. John made himself comfortable on the bed and waited. Three minutes ticked by. He picked up his gun and idly began to disassemble it, checking each part as he did.

“She didn’t say where he was.”

His hands slowed, his mind replaying the statement to try to make sense of it. Nope, no go. “What?”

“The, uh, flood-weakened area.” McKay’s hand moved in a vague circle. “Elizabeth didn’t say where it was.”

“Does it matter?”

He actually got a roll of the eyes for that. “Of course it matters. We’re going to have to take some precautions in that section in case there’s more damage, not to mention moving everything useful out of there.”

“I’m sure Elizabeth’s already taken care of that.”

“Right, right.” Rodney nodded, lapsing into silence again. Then after a minute, “I wonder…”

McKay didn’t finish. Probably wondering if he would have been caught in the collapse if he’d been back in the city instead of away on a mission. Survivor guilt wasn’t limited to other victims. John gave the man a sidelong glance, taking in the ashen features and unnatural stillness and, frowning, turned to dig through his discarded vest. He found what he was looking for, and offered it to McKay.

Rodney stared at the gift for a moment before taking it with a ghost of a smile. “A PowerBar to solve all our problems? How very me of you.”

John shrugged. “I have my moments. Besides, it’ll help pass the time.”

He’d never seen Rodney eat so slowly.

The gun checked and reassembled, John did an inventory of his vest. He’d need more sunscreen and there was room for another clip, but otherwise he was set.

McKay began to slowly shred the PowerBar wrapper.

John cleared his throat. “Last time I was sitting here, it was when Ford managed to get himself bitten by that big…furry…hamster thing. You remember that?”

“Unfortunately.” McKay’s grimace faded. “The last time I was here was after that alien bug got up close and personal with your neck,” he added thoughtfully.

John flinched. That “little alien bug” had nearly cost him his life and would have if not for McKay’s last-minute save. And, come to think of it, every time he’d woken up during his recovery, Rodney had been somewhere close by. Conducting a vigil like this one?

He looked over at the scientist with new eyes. Yeah, from what he remembered, Rodney had looked about as bad then if not worse—Carson had said something about some sleepless nights. But it wasn’t like McKay haunted the sickbay anytime someone was injured. How had one loner Air Force Major joined that exclusive club?

John’s voice softened even as he teased, “I remember you were here ogling my nurse.”

“I wasn’t ‘ogling,’ I was…admiring her dedication.”

“Is that what you call it?”

McKay just gave him an “oh, please” look and shut up again. But there was a remembered pain in his eyes that John didn’t want to think about too deeply.  

He let the scientist be for all of two minutes before giving him a nudge with his shoulder, and waited until the heavy gaze came up to meet his. “Hey, Dr. Z ever tell you what he was muttering in Czech that day you melted his glasses?”

“I didn’t melt his glasses, I just singed them a little. And it was something about pigs and my mother and, honestly, I didn’t want to know the details.”

John snorted a laugh. “You get the feeling he says stuff like that about us a lot and we just don’t know it?”

Even McKay’s mouth quirked. “All the time.”

The door opposite them opened, and a nurse came out, followed by a tired-looking Carson Beckett. John pulled himself up straight, feeling Rodney do the same next to him. Weir hadn’t mentioned how long ago Zelenka had gotten hurt and John hadn’t thought to ask, but from the look of it, the surgery hadn’t been brief.

Beckett didn’t even seem surprised to see them. He just nodded and offered a small smile. “He’s still with us, though I don’t mind tellin’ you it was dicey for a while. He’s not completely out of the woods yet, but I think we were able to fix the damage.”

Rodney’s spirits rose visibly. “Well, that’s…that’s good news. Can I, uh—”

“Just a peek,” Beckett said indulgently, waving a hand at the door behind him. “He’s in recovery.”

Which meant nothing to John, but Rodney seemed to know where he was going and immediately set off to see his friend. John thoughtfully watched him go. “Hey, Doc?”

“Yes?” Carson, just turning away, looked back at him.

“Just how much time _did_ McKay spend here when I was sick?”            

A slow smile crept across Beckett’s face. “Do you really have to ask, Major?”

John made a face. “Let’s just assume I do.”

“Well, let me put it this way,” he said in soft Scottish tones. “The way he looked just now is nothing compared to then.”

“Oh.” Sheppard tried not to be embarrassed, but the way Beckett was watching at him, it was hard not to. Well, he’d asked. And the answer surprised him less than he’d expected. He just wasn’t sure what to make of that.  

Rodney came out, still looking pale and strained, but with a little more bounce in his step. John slid off the diagnostic bed and gathered both vests and his gun, listening to McKay try to wheedle Beckett into letting him stay for a while.

“He’s going t’be sleeping for a long time now, Rodney—almost bleeding out does that to ya. Come back in the morning.”

“But, Carson—”

“Unless you want to have that physical you’ve been putting off?”

John smiled to himself at the sound of McKay’s audible swallow. “Maybe tomorrow morning is a good idea. I mean, he won’t even know I’m here now, right?”

“Right.”

“Right,” added John, and clapped a hand on McKay’s shoulder. “Lead on, MacDuff. Thanks, Doc,” he added with a meaningful look to Beckett as they passed the doctor.

They went out the door, and John turned left toward their quarters. McKay immediately went right.

“Hey, wait a minute.” John snagged a passing arm, glowering at Rodney as the scientist tried to slip free again. “Your room’s this way.”

“Thank you, I’d almost forgotten that since this morning.” McKay’s teeth were practically locked together. “Not to mention every other day since we’ve been here, but then, you’ve been here so much longer, I can see why you’d think I needed some help with navigation.”

“Now, wait a minute—”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t receive mind-reading capabilities with your gene, either, so you wouldn’t know I wasn’t planning to go to my room. I’m needed in the lab.” He dared John with a glare to stop him again but didn’t move.

John glared back at him. “It’s late, you’re still geared up—what’s so important in the lab it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Structural studies.”

“Structural studies,” Sheppard repeated, uncomprehending.

Exasperation crept back into the scientist’s tone. “Yes, structural studies, Major. The kind that tell you when a wall’s about to fall on you. For some strange reason, it suddenly seems important now.”

Ah. He sure was dense today. “Yeah, that sounds good,” John said quietly, apologizing. As McKay picked up on the unspoken and lowered his hackles, he added, “I’m gonna swing by at midnight, though, and if you’re not in bed, I swear, McKay, I’m gonna have Grodin cut power to your lab.”

“Like that would work,” came the smug answer, dropped quickly in the face of John’s menacing look. “All right, all right.”

John paused again, not quite ready to turn away. “Look, Rodney…I’ve done this before, waiting for news about a friend. I know he’s your best friend in the city, but…well, I just wanted to say, you handled it well.”

McKay actually looked nonplussed, mouth opening and closing before he replied. “As much as I appreciate your admiration, Major, I don’t believe my sitting and eating a PowerBar has earned it. But for the record,” his eyes slid away from John’s, “Radek isn’t my best friend here.”

And then he was gone, hurrying down the hall toward the lab with more than his usual urgency, leaving John to stare after him for a long minute, struck speechless. Then, slowly, his mouth stretched into a smile.

“Feeling’s mutual, Rodney.”

The End


End file.
